Same Shade as Concrete

Rejoice, rejoice a noble birth, a prince is born.
Behold the birth of violence, beasts of fang and feather cry for our concrete rapture,
and if we beg to be put down, unto us the most inspired storm.
A princess ravaged by her prince behold; the birth of sex and distance, two frail corpses both were they, his eyes were the first to stray... every tree held fast the earth to sky.
Concrete replaces every branch and twig as they were frayed upon the birth of ambition. The heavens filled our gilded vessel with poison tears, before we drink, I propose a toast, a final prayer.
Here's to the watchers in the wood, here's to the last days, unto us a most inspired song.
Shaper, stop the music.
Halt the harp strings whose chords confuse our histories with textures.
With the disheartened chorus of a hymnal whose choir is the conviction of the starving, artless, tempted by the feast of proof that this body of work has worth.
Uncertain as the fingering of a chord torn prematurely from a piano's womb.
As we fill our precious lungs with concrete, that faithful shade, a shaper's song is stopped short- a dying breath a singing shore.
Then the only movement and the last remains of grace:
Pollen falling off the simple hinge joint leg upon the final breath of a dragonfly.
A cardinal, lost but headstrong in mid flight cries for our concrete rapture, wade...
in the water, wade. Let the flood swell, thank the storm for her tears.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will
but the fool knows what the prophets have seen, no salvation's impending.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will let the flood swell and the bodies that break we'll just float down the river. Stay tame, soft river, while we weigh our faith, stay sweet, run softly, sweet river, the fool who wades in doubt will float like concrete.
Come and fill your lungs. Come and fill your lungs.
There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will, let the flood swell
on the loudspeaker sermons and a parish descending.
There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
Let the flood swell.

Let's take this step by step. I am keeping in mind that Drew said that this CD is about self-discovery and realization.

Rejoice, rejoice a noble birth, a prince is born
This is the birth of our subject. This shares similarities with Jesus, whether intentional or not.

Behold the birth of violence, beasts of fang and feather cry for our concrete rapture,
This prince is going to be violent and nature knows it. It cries for the end, the unyielding rapture.

and if we beg to be put down, unto us the most inspired storm.
If we want to die, we will be given an enlightening action?

A princess ravaged by her prince behold; the birth of sex and distance, two frail corpses both were they, his eyes were the first to stray... every tree held fast the earth to sky.
The prince has raped purity, which the princess is a symbol of. Born was evil and discomfort. They were both frail and decrepit. They were not literally dead though, just emotionally. He was the first the look off the beaten path of righteousness. It appeared as though the trees held the earth to the sky. This may be nature anchoring us to reality and being in tough with ourselves.

Concrete replaces every branch and twig as they were frayed upon the birth of ambition.
Industry and civilization are replacing nature.

The heavens filled our gilded vessel with poison tears, before we drink, I propose a toast, a final prayer.
Nature is sad about this destruction and is fighting back. The destroyer, whether that be humans or this prince, are aware that nature will win, yet doesn't turn back. It just accepts it's fate.

Here's to the watchers in the wood, here's to the last days, unto us a most inspired song.
This is the prayer that is said. Giving thanks to the people of the forest and to the of it. He is also declaring the prayer a most inspired one.

Shaper, stop the music.
Halt the harp strings whose chords confuse our histories with textures.
Shaper could be either God or the destroyer. We are begging for the destruction to stop.
The line confuse our histories with textures is a odd one. Maybe it's saying the music is confusing emotions with facts.

With the disheartened chorus of a hymnal whose choir is the conviction of the starving, artless, tempted by the feast of proof that this body of work has worth.
This goes with the music. The choir is a symbol for desperate people who are supporting this naive point of view. They look at a body of work and think that it must be correct. These are the people supporting the destruction of nature for "the greater good"

Uncertain as the fingering of a chord torn prematurely from a piano's womb.
Unsure like an unfinished musical note.

As we fill our precious lungs with concrete, that faithful shade, a shaper's song is stopped short- a dying breath a singing shore.
We kill ourselves slowly, surely. We praise and sing songs of hope until we can sing no more.

Then the only movement and the last remains of grace:
Pollen falling off the simple hinge joint leg upon the final breath of a dragonfly.
The earth is cleansed; desolate. A wasteland is what remains.

A cardinal, lost but headstrong in mid flight cries for our concrete rapture,
Nature again see the coming doom.

wade...
in the water, wade. Let the flood swell, thank the storm for her tears.
Nature is cleaning itself. Rain is the most destructive and cleansing thing.

The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will
but the fool knows what the prophets have seen, no salvation's impending.
A section are saying it will be beautiful but the foolish ones are saying this is the end. But who is the real fool?

The faithful say its beautiful, its god's will let the flood swell and the bodies that break we'll just float down the river.
repetition for emphasis. all the people who can't handle this cleansing, we will ship down the river.

Stay tame, soft river, while we weigh our faith, stay sweet, run softly, sweet river, the fool who wades in doubt will float like concrete.
We want nature to stay still and tame while we decide what we want. The one who doubts will surely perish. This is an odd turn in direction. The one who is skeptical will die while the fateful will survive on a calm river? Maybe this is sarcasm

Come and fill your lungs. Come and fill your lungs.
Join the believers.

There's so much hope buried underneath tragedy, its the same shade as concrete.
There is no right or wrong. Tragedy is not black and white, but rather a shade of gray.


I think this song is about nature versus man. Some of us want to industrialize the world and make it more for us. But others want to stay that way. We are caught in a divide and a decision. Neither way is clearly defined and we have to choose a side. We can either be the fool and drown or the smart one and suffocate. Concrete is used interestingly here, because at first it's used in a negative descriptive way. Then it's used as a good thing. Either way, this song is an interesting expose in the way we make decisions and the duality of the real world.